“anxious, tired, excited”

Dear Winter,

You are relentless, you are tiresome and have long overstayed your welcome. You should be gone by now but here you are, lingering. You have grown wearisome. Your purpose has come and gone. Christmas decorations are down, snowmen have melted and hot chocolate swirls in my gut. Kids have flushed ice cubs and worn pajamas inside out for the wish of snow. Kids now sigh with acceptance at the announcement of more snow. Get it? Even kids are done with snow. This recent snow you pushed unto Spring came with barely a nod of acknowledgement, from the kids! Am I getting through to you? You must release your hold on Spring and let her breathe and shine.

Bitterly,
Susan

Spring – March 23, 2012

Just when I think I have everything figured out I have my third child that forces me to throw all preconceptions out the window. Out of all my children he was the only one that preferred the nanny over me, every Mother’s worst nightmare. While I imagined his first day of school to be a piece of cake, afterall he’d witnessed his older sister getting dropped off every other day for the past year, he had a hard time and sometimes still cries. Potty training is a dreaded task to every parent. It’s like a workout, you know you’ll feel great afterwards but its so hard to put on those sneakers or unroll the yoga mat. Finally at the age of 3 years and 3 months we realized it was time, he was ready though I wasn’t. Six days into it and I’m knocking on wood. Each time when I hear the beautiful tinkle of pee pee I look at my youngest in amazement, he’s done it!  I fill to the brim with such pride and wonder, he looks at me and can’t help but be affected by the contagious nature of emotions.  Here is my three year old, going to the potty. If he can comprehend this what else can he comprehend? And in a dizzying flash; his insane attachment, his empathy, his all-consuming sweetness… all is made clear. This boy gets so much more than I give him credit for.

So I must now say farewell to the world of cushy bottoms, say farewell to one more form of dependence as he inches further away from me.

Some days you want to climb into, surround yourself and linger, stay, many days long. Some days need more than 24 hours. Celebrating a birthday is one of those days.

Pokemon cake, Pokemon decorations, Pokemon favors, Pokemon trainer Ash hat and personalized Pokemon t-shirt.

The only thing Lucas loves more than Pokemon are video games. Boy was he surprised when the Game Truck pulled up! Reserved, 7 year old enthusiasm. But I know inside he was all pop rocks and giggles.

Two hours of playing his favorite video games with his favorite people.

And in typical Lucas fashion blowing out candles is always something funny and grand.

Thank you for celebrating, for sharing and making this day complete.

As if his dreams wouldn’t be sweet enough, he lost his first tooth.

Though this day may be over, in your mind, in your memories, this day will feel many days long.

There is nothing more poetic, more spontaneous and more memorable than a first. They create an indelible mark on our very fabric. And there is nothing more prescient about a first than their inability to be replicated. And there’s the sting. 

Until you have a child…

My first child gave me the remarkable opportunity to experience firsts all over again. I don’t remember my first Christmas but I will never forget my first child’s first Christmas. With each day that passes I get to experience more firsts as lived by my first born. The first child that taught me true vulnerability, my first child that I practiced on, messed up on and continue to mess up on, learn from and lean on.

Life is real and raw and fresh and vibrant seeing it through my first child’s eyes. Life is full of mystery, fantasy and possibility. Everything exists and there is no comprehension of limits or gravity. 

Seven years ago I first met you. I first loved someone more than they could ever love me. And I first realized how scary and lonely this world can be.

You carry so much by being my first but you also get my best, my enthusiasm and my firsts.

When asked to decorate their heart with pieces of paper most kids created a random collage while Oliver created a house. (It’s hard to tell in this image but the pieces are glued to a white heart)

Love,
Oliver

Love,
Penny

This boy knows his parents. Anthony, better get going on P90X.

38 years. 3 children. 1 wife. Millions of snow flakes.
One simple, ordinary moment that will last a lifetime.